Wilson gets a phone call while he's at a conference in Chicago. As always, it's about our favorite diagnostician who's gotten himself into trouble again... Twoshot with HW strong friendship! Now complete. R&R please!

Wilson
didn't even have to ask who she was talking about. He wearily
rubbed his eyes with one hand, the other still holding his cell phone
against his ear. "Something tells me I don't wanna hear the rest
of it…"

Cuddy
couldn't help but smile slightly at the seemingly resigned
response. She didn't even want to know how often the oncologist had
gotten calls similar to this one...

"There was an accident…" She
could hear Wilson groan softly at the other end of the line. "But
for once: He wasn't speeding. It wasn't his fault."

The oncologist suddenly inhaled sharply. "He
was in a motorcycle
accident?!"
All weariness gone. His voice reflected pure concern; and a trace of
panic. "How bad…?!"

She replied without hesitation. "Could
have been a lot worse. – Concussion; broken left wrist; two broken
ribs. His entire right side is pretty banged up…"

A
moment of silence. Then, much more loudly than before: "And you
call that 'okay'?!
– What about the leg?!" He sounded tense.

Cuddy
decided to simply ignore the accusation in the first of the two sentences, instead explaining calmly: "The hip's
contused; the knee probably sprained. – The thigh itself doesn't seem to have
taken any further damage..."

Another
moment of silence. Cuddy thought she heard a chair scraping across the floor; Wilson was probably sitting down.

"What
about internal injuries…"

She couldn't help but roll her eyes at the question. "We're all doctors here,
James. – We've checked everything. He's looking good so far…"

"Pain…?"
Wilson finally asked quietly.

Cuddy concentrated on sounding reassuring, keeping her voice firm. "Under control. His attendings were immediately informed about everything they needed to know; including his usual dosage. - They're IV-medicating him at the moment. He's not in much pain..."

But Wilson wasn't pacified that easily. "What do they have him on? - It's been worse lately…"

She gently
interrupted him. "Wilson. They're getting his pain-ratings every
two hours. He's okay… –
And before you even think
about it: You're going to stay where you are. Until the conference is
over."

She
thought she heard him snort at the other end of the line.

"No
way. – With his luck, he'll throw a clot or... suddenly bleed to death or something, without me
being there again.
– I'm coming."

Cuddy
rolled her eyes again at that. "He'll do nothing like that! He's fine. He didn't even want me to tell you!" She finally added much more gently: "Listen, James. There's honestly no need for you
to come. I just thought you'd want to know, that's all…"

A
short moment of silence; Wilson seemed to be thinking. Then,
determinedly: "I'm coming."

"That's ridiculous! What do you even think you can do for him here…?! – Dr. Wilson; I expect you to stay in Chicago until your meeting is over.
Do you understand? I want you to stay exactly where you are and let
us deal with House here…"

Wilson responded
with something that resembled a pained half-laugh. "Yeah, well… To cite
a good friend of mine citing one of those great philosophers… 'You
can't always get what you want'.- I'll see you in a couple of hours…"

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